


the valiant denial (the lies unfold, the great untold)

by merwinist



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tumblr Fic, peter parker has patience, self-denial is tony's thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merwinist/pseuds/merwinist
Summary: Peter picked up a habit at MIT that leads to Tony accidentally confessing something he shouldn't have.





	the valiant denial (the lies unfold, the great untold)

Most days, Tony enjoyed having Peter in the lab. He was quick-witted, asked insightful questions, and best of all, he had genuine affection for Tony’s bots. The closest Tony was going to get to kids, if he was honest with himself -- which he usually avoided without the lubrication of a nice whiskey or five. He didn’t think of Peter as a kid, that was for goddamn sure. Somewhere in his four years away at MIT, Peter had grown into his skin. He was now a confident young man, albeit one who still flushed if the exact right buttons were hit; his stammer only made a reappearance when he was truly nervous.  
  
The only unfortunate habit Peter had picked up at MIT was the goddamned leg-bouncing. Yeah, Tony knew the kid had energy in spades and that sitting in lectures and study halls didn’t exactly lend itself to expelling all of it, but Tony found himself wishing Peter had found some other way to cope. At this point, even pen chewing would be a welcome reprieve, because he got absolutely zero work done whenever the heel of Peter’s shoe began tapping on the floor.  
  
Of course, pen chewing would have led to different problems, and Tony’s self-control had never been lauded -- hell, most people thought it was a myth.  
  
Still. Ideas were backing up in Tony’s head because of the distracting fucking leg-bouncing; he had to do something. Without thinking, he leaned over and clamped a hand over Peter’s thigh, right above his knee, and said, “Peter, I love you to death, but if you don’t knock it off I’m gonna be donating _you_ to the local community college.”  
  
The muscle under Tony’s hand froze, clenched tight, and silence reined in the lab while Tony’s brain played his words on loop.  
  
_And that, kids, is what they call a Freudian slip.  
_  
Fuck. He slowly pulled his hand away, turning back to his own work station without making eye contact. “Why don’t you go for a walk, or a swing? Hell, even a swim. Something to burn off some energy so I don’t feel like I’m sharing lab space with the Energizer bunny.” Maybe if he acted like it wasn’t a big deal, it wouldn’t be.  
  
Except Tony Stark didn’t _do_ emotions, and Peter knew that very well, so of course it was a big deal. Anyone who knew him well knew that was tantamount to Tony proposing on a Jumbotron. And Peter, after six years, knew him very, very well.  
  
_Fuck.  
_  
And he’d been doing so well.  
  
The feet of Peter’s stool slid across the floor, deafeningly loud in the quiet, and for a moment Tony thought he was going to get a reprieve. Then a hand clasped on his shoulder, spinning him around on his own stool. His gaze slid up the kid’s - the fucking _kid’s_ \- chest, eyes settling somewhere between Pete’s collarbone and his chin. The back of his fingers brushed over Tony’s cheek, making him draw in a rough breath. “Don’t do that, Tony.”  
  
“Do what?” he asked, finally flashing his eyes up with his patented media grin. Nothing to see here, folks, just Tony Stark at it again.  
  
“That,” Pete said pointedly, but his tone was fond. “That deflection thing you love to do. I’ve been waiting for you to say something for years, there’s no way in hell I’m going to pretend now that you finally have.”  
  
His smile dropped off his face quicker than a dress off a Playboy model, lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re a smart kid. You already know all the reasons this can’t happen.”  
  
Peter’s first response was a bark of incredulous laughter. His second was, “You’re Tony _fucking_ Stark, since when do you care what other people think? I know what I want, and you know what you want, and there’s really not a good reason we both can’t have what we want.” Tony expected to see bitter disappointment when he looked up again, but all he could see after a thorough scan of Peter’s face was genuine sincerity and fond amusement. Tony found himself missing the days where Peter hadn’t known him so well.  
  
“Don’t you think I’ve got enough self-loathing to be getting on with?” he asked, happy to supply the bitterness on his own, no store-bought needed.  
  
Something in Pete’s eyes softened, and both his hands came up to caress Tony’s face. He leaned down slowly, giving Tony time to pull away, but the shattered man was frozen where he was, not even breathing. A hurt noise welled up from somewhere deep inside when Peter’s lips just barely brushed over his. “That’s okay, Tony. I can wait. You’re worth it.”  
  
For some reason, it was that sentiment that broke him; the idea that Peter - smart, brave, fearless Peter - thought that Tony was worth something, worth waiting for? It was too much. The walls started closing in on him, and all he could think about was how even if he tried he’d fuck this up, just like he had with Pepper. There was a metal cage around his ribs, crushing the air out of his lungs. He’d rather have half of Peter than none of him, and he’d always been a coward, too afraid to risk things that really mattered to him. In a flash he was out of his seat, heading for the elevator with a casual wave over his shoulder. He felt like his throat was closing up. “Good talk. Next time go for a run before coming to the lab, please. See ya next week.” He didn’t even wait for the elevator, heading instead for the stairwell in order to make the quickest escape possible.  
  
Of course, next week Peter showed up still sweaty from whatever workout he’d done to burn off energy. And the week after that he was still dripping from a shower, wearing a shirt that had to have been from high school given how tight and washed thin it was. Apparently waiting didn’t mean Peter intended to be passive, now that he knew his interest was reciprocated.   
  
Tony wondered which would happen first, a coronary or him caving.


End file.
